If I were a versatile blogger, I'd probably have better words for the contentment I feel when I'm holding her, my angel. (Henceforth angel will be code for the all-too charming, intelligent, sunny and stunning woman of my life. I do so because I fret that somehow the cheap air of cyberspace will dim the glory of my admiration to the eyes of its sometimes callous denizens.) More specifically, I don't think I can do justice to the palpitations, pinings, etc. that persist both in her presence and in the rosy-colored imagery she induces with my over-flowery self-expression.
As a writer, I have yet to "kill my darlings" so I'll have to pine in silence until I can muster something less maudlin.